


on human time

by The_Werewolf_of_Bauhaus



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale, 半妖の夜叉姫 | Hanyou no Yashahime | Yashahime: Princess Half-Demon (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Dad sesshoumaru, Family, Gen, Mentions of Inu no Taisho, One Shot, Other characters mentioned but not seen - Freeform, Sesshoumaru muses on the concept of human time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 23:49:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29908941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Werewolf_of_Bauhaus/pseuds/The_Werewolf_of_Bauhaus
Summary: Even while Sesshoumaru was taking what, he thought at the time, was every precaution he could think of in anticipation of the birth of his children, there remained in the back of his mind an idea that he might be making a terrible mistake. There was always the very real possibility he was making a terrible mistake, yes, but in a rare period of optimism, he’d chalked the feeling up to habit. Sesshoumaru had always thought having hanyou children was a mistake, albeit for different reasons.And still, here, in front of a tree that should be the prime representation of everything that had gone so terribly wrong, he can’t bring himself to feel like it was a mistake. Not taking care of Zero and Kirinmaru while he had the chance; that had been the mistake. But it’s not over yet. Himself, Rin, Towa, Setsuna: they’re all still alive. They were going to be a family once and they still will be.Fourteen years used to feel like nothing to Sesshoumaru, but these last fourteen now feel like the only significant years of his entire life. Every day that goes by while Rin remains entangled beyond his grasp, while his children are at the mercy of forces they don’t understand—It feels a little bit like being human.
Relationships: Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	on human time

It wasn’t that Sesshoumaru had never expected to become a father, it was the circumstances under which it happened that he hadn’t foreseen. Not that it was something he’d ever bothered mulling over. It was just a small, vague part of the idea he had about his future. That once he had his father’s sword by side, after he’d defeated all his enemies, after he’d secured all his territory and cemented his position as one of—if not _the—_ most powerful daiyokai’s you could have the misfortune of crossing paths with; then, yes, producing a fine heir to carry on his bloodline and his legacy would logically be the next step.

An inevitability, he supposed, but not one he’d ascribed any sort of urgency to. There would be all the time in the world for that later.

Or so he thought.

Ever since meeting Rin, he’s been running on her time, instead of his own. It was somewhat disorientating, for one as long-lived as he. Sesshoumaru was used to being able to take things at a leisurely pace. He had decades, centuries even to allot himself to a task. Not that he never grew impatient, such as the two hundred after his father’s death, when he’d searched high and low for his final resting place.

But if he’d needed to search for two hundred more? Frustrating, certainly, but was he under a time limit? Not really. He'd survived that long without Tessaiga. With his claws and poison and pure demonic energy.

Humans were quite different. He’d known this, it was one of the many things about them that made him aware of his kind’s intrinsic superiority over them.

Sesshoumaru had never attached himself to a human before. Had never first-hand witnessed the process, the exponential rate at which they aged and changed and grew. How quickly they shifted from one phase of their lives to another, a good portion of their life already used up and gone. Naturally, this led them to live their lives with what seemed a constant sense of immediacy.

Rin’s transformation had been almost bewildering. It was as if he’d merely turn around and suddenly she’d become a woman; a woman with wants and desires and needs beyond basic sustenance and annoying Jaken. Initially, he’d found it disturbing, mostly because it forced him to think about something he _hated_ thinking about, more than he hated thinking about anything else.

_How much longer was she going to be alive on this earth_?

He’s on her timeline now. And it still feels unnatural to him, having to adapt to human notions of time, to line himself up with human milestones. It goes completely against how he’s lived his life until now. But it’s been that way since he met her, hasn’t it? Ever since the day they met, he’s been adjusting himself to fit her needs.

As he stares at the Tree of Ages, as he has been doing, for the past fourteen years, he laments again. He really, really thought that he had this. Thought that he had learned from his father’s mistakes. Chichi-ue had left so many loose ends before he'd died, left too many things to chance. That it had, mostly, worked out in the end didn’t change the fact that he’d gotten himself killed and left an extremely vulnerable woman and a hanyou infant alone in a world that hated them.

Sesshoumaru was determined not to allow that to happen. During the time Rin carried the twins safely within her, her husband had wasted no time preparing. He would leave no stone unturned, or so he thought. And, as inadequate as he ultimately found his father’s actions leading up to Inuyasha’s birth, he found himself using the man as his inspiration. Chichi-ue had made plans. Oh, how the Great Dog Demon made _plans_. Giving Inuyasha the Tessaiga and him the Tenseiga, knowing it would eventually cause him to develop compassion and allow the two to become real brothers. His instructions to Sesshoumaru’s mother regarding the meidou stone, knowing his eldest would one day seek her out when the time came. How had Chichi-ue known so much?

While that’s something he still can’t answer, he finds himself much more sympathetic to the man now, finding himself in the position that he’s in. As he thinks about Rin, trapped inside the Tree of Ages, in a constant sleep and with her life inextricably tied to the monstrous Zero; Setsuna, effectively an orphan, with uncontrollable blood and dreamless nights, and Towa, snatched away from own era and separated from her sister, he, _well_ , he figures he’s messed up about as badly as Chichi-ue had.

All that careful planning and it wasn’t even an unknown entity, a Naraku, a spider hiding in the shadows that had done him and his family in. He could have done something. He could have prevented all of this.

It would be easy to blame his father. Zero was _another_ loose end after all. It was her feelings and his rejection of them that had started an avalanche that continued to roll, unabated. He doesn’t blame Father though.

That was the problem with falling in love with a human. You have centuries worth of bad blood to contend with and by the time you could manage to clean it all up, your mortal love would be long gone. You just have to do as much as you can. And it’s never going to be enough. It wasn't enough for the Inu no Taisho, at least and not for his son either.

Even while Sesshoumaru was taking what, he thought at the time, was every precaution he could think of in anticipation of the birth of his children, there remained in the back of his mind an idea that he might be making a terrible mistake. There was always the very real possibility he _was_ making a terrible mistake, yes, but in a rare period of optimism, he’d chalked the feeling up to habit. Sesshoumaru had _always_ thought having hanyou children was a mistake, albeit for different reasons.

And still, here, in front of a tree that should be the prime representation of everything that had gone so terribly wrong, he can’t bring himself to feel like it was a mistake. Not taking care of Zero and Kirinmaru while he had the chance; _that_ had been the mistake. But it’s not over yet. Himself, Rin, Towa, Setsuna: they’re all still _alive_. They were going to be a family once and they still will be.

Fourteen years used to feel like nothing to Sesshoumaru, but these last fourteen now feel like the only significant years of his entire life. Every day that goes by while Rin remains entangled beyond his grasp, while his children are at the mercy of forces they don’t understand—

It feels a little bit like being human.

He can smell his daughter’s blood, the scent being carried by the wind. In that moment, the girl seems more yokai than he does; all untamed rage and thirsty for destruction. Nothing at all to tie you to the earthly realm. His feet are firmly planted on the ground, though.

“The flow of the wind has changed,” he says. “She still can’t suppress her blood.”

It won’t be much longer now. Fourteen years ago, a storm he didn’t even realize was brewing had come to a head and caught him off guard. It was coming back around again, in one circular motion, like a comet. Only this time, he was ready.


End file.
